Bubblegum Psychosis: Tokyo 2041
by Sailor Ghost
Summary: Yup, peoples, it's ANOTHER one of those continuation fics! And since it's a Sailor Ghost fic, it's full of unparallelled insanity and relentless Priss x Leon WAFF. for lack of better ideas, it's a series of vignettes cowritten by my sidekick Mini-Me! R&R!
1. Prologue (or Why Leon's Hair Fascinates ...

**Disclaimer:** We don't own _BGC2040_! We swear!! We're just diehard fans that's all!!! In no way, shape or form do we own Priss, Sylia, Nene, Linna, Daley, Leon (though we wish we did! meow! he can pull us over for a speeding ticket any time! ^~), Mackie, Nigel, Galatea, Brian J. Mason, Priss's Motorcycle, Boomers, Hardsuits, Pikachu, Folgers Coffee, Jack Daniels, Budweiser, the cast of Survivor, a tribe of mad cannibals, Microsoft (hmmmmm...ideas...), or anything else mentioned in this story except for [SPOILER CHARACTERS] and ChiLu ChiLu Inouko-chan The Beanie Lobster Of Doom™! 

***

**THIS IS OUR PROLOGUE!!!!!!!**

****

**Sailor Ghost: **HELLO HELLO and welcome to our wonderfully psychotic _BGC2040_ ficcy!!!!!

**PMJ (_Sailor G's sidekick_ _whose name is abbreviated to prevent spoilers_): **YAH YAH YAH OUR _BGC2040_ FIC - SOON TO BECOME A LOVELY RADIO PLAY WITH ME AS MYSELF AND SAILOR GHOST AS PRISS!!! ^_____^v! Hey, how come we need a prologue?? Anyone whose read the summary on FFN knows that this is about how the Knight Sabres got home after the battle w/ Galatea & all subsequent events!!! 

**Sailor Ghost: **This is precisely why you're a sidekick! Well, people, we wanted to explain why we capitalize the words PURPLE HAIR and our fetish with guys who have it, seeing as we mention PURPLE HAIR a bazillion times in this fic!

**PMJ:** OOOOoooooOOOOOO!!!! YAH PURPLE HAIR RULES!!! I have PURPLE HAIR!!! Yah we just adore PURPLE HAIRED guys! PURPLE HAIRED guys are sooooooooo sexy!!!!! Guys like Sasaki from _Shinesman_...

**Sailor Ghost:** ...or Youko Kurama from _Yu Yu Hakushou_...

**PMJ:** ...or Professor Tomoe from _Sailor Moon_...

**Sailor Ghost:** ...or Akio from _Utena_…

**PMJ:** ...AND NATURALLY DA...I MEAN LEON FROM _BGC2040_!!!! (_cue collective fangirl sigh_) 

**Sailor Ghost:** Yah we're probably the only Leon fangirls out there but who cares!!! We love him! He's such a bad@$$!

**PMJ:** And he has a hot body! And a really sexy Japanese voice!!!!!! (_nosebleeds_) 

**Sailor Ghost:** And a sexy English voice actor!! (_huggles her army of Jason Douglas plushies_) 

**PMJ:** But do I really NEED to say why we love him so much??

**Sailor Ghost:** HEE HEE once more! For old time's sake!

**PMJ & Sailor Ghost:** BECAUSE HE HAS PURPLE HAIR!!!!! 

**Sailor Ghost:** Yes hail Leon's PURPLE HAIR and general sexiness!!! Even though Leon is my grandpa's name ~_~

**PMJ:** (_poke, poke_) Methinks we need to get on with the show...

_see ya, Space Cowboy....oh wait wrong anime ^^;;_


	2. Chapter the First - Priss of Arabia

**Chapter the First: Priss of Arabia**

****

                The blazing sun beat down on parched earth, but that's what you should expect if you're stuck out in the middle of the desert. If you don't expect a desert to be hot, then you probably should be placed in a special school or something. Actually, if you are reading this fanfic, it probably shows that you were "special" enough to get past our intro. 

            _Damned heat....damned broken crappy Motoslave...damned dry skin._ Priss was none to happy to be stuck underneath the blazing sun beating down on the parched earth. She was also none to happy with being naked in the middle of it, either, but if you were stuck in the desert for an extended period of time, clothes would just be a hassle. Priss didn't care about clothes. All she wanted was a way to get home to her lovely trailer and finally be able to conquer the evil clock on her Beta VCR. Sighing, she fell back on the sand and stared up at the equally hot blazing sun. _This totally sucks bilgewater....how the Hell am I supposed to live in this friggin' wasteland??_ was about the only thing that ran through her head, as it had for the past 3 hours that she had been trapped there. There was some stuff about Leon but that was all mushy & sappy so we won't bore you with the details...that's what Disney is for. Well, Disney and the next chapter.

            A few hours down the road of life, Priss awoke from her heat-stroke induced slumber to the murmurs radiating from a small throng of people gathered a few hundred meters away. Normally, this kind of banter would not excite too much interest in the detached Knight Saber, except this time said banter was smack dab in the middle of a desert. With a stunned leap to her feet, Priss craned her neck to sneak a peak at the banterers. _Hmmmmm...just a bunch of scantily-clad sluts and hormonal young men...oh wait there's an old one...what the HELL is going on here??_ It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that she was understandably very confused. 

            "In order to obtain the immunity idol, you must run 200 meters to that sand dune over there, and dig through the dirt in order to find an earthenware pot. The individual who finds the pot containing the immunity idol will gain immunity in the next tribal council meeting. Are there any questions??" Priss squinted to watch a khaki-clad man instruct the clan of no longer bantering people in the ways of witless American entertainment. Since the only English she could comprehend was randomly inserted into her JRock performances, Priss figured that the men and women hustling towards the sand dune, from behind which she was cowering, were probably out to get her. Being a Knight Saber does that to a person. Needless to say, she was none to pleased when one of the contestants ran right on top of her stomach. Of course, because it was Priss taking the abuse, her temper exploded with roughly the force of a hurricane as she tackled the man into the sand and proceeded to attempt to bash his brains out. The youth was simultaneously terrorized and stimulated in the worst possible way to be beaten upon by a naked desert-dwelling woman cursing in a foreign tongue. Both fortunately and unfortunately for him, Priss was never the most quiet of people, so the ruckus attracted a bevy of _Survivor_s, one of whom managed, arguably with the assistance of steroids, to yank her away from the nosebleeding (for 2 different reasons...) victim. 

***

            "Hmph. I swear if my premiums aren't up to date, someone's ass is toast," Sylia stood in the middle of the smoking pile of rubble located on the lot formerly occupied by the Silky Doll. Aside from the fact that her once profitable business was now a smoldering heap, she was pissed off that she had to go alllllllll the way from _KANSAS_ where all kinds of _FUN_ things happen to _TOKYO_ (of all places) where she had to survey the damage done to her cash cow. That topped with a recent diagnosis of premature PMS was a lethal combination for Nigel, who took the first opportunity to go slog down a 6-pack of Bud at whatever was left of his garage. 

            "Ummm...Sylia??" the silver-trussed schitz...err...Knight Saber whipped around to face her cute 'n' cuddly little boomer brother Mackey. 

            "WHAT?!?!? Did the bloody FISH DIE, _TOO_????"

            "Well, um, yeah, but...uhh...two things. First, yes our premiums have a clause covering damage done by biomechanical rogue robots seeking an equal place amongst humanity..."

            Sylia sighed a breath of relief. This was the only good news she had received in a while. "And the second...?"

            Mackey gestured behind him, "Priss is here." Sure enough, as soon as the words left his lips, Priss's figure emerged from climbing the mountainous ruins of the former HQ. Despite a freakishly dark tan and charred pieces of the Silky Doll stuck in her hair from the ascent, she appeared, at least physically, to be in one piece. Sylia was ecstatic to find out that at least one of the Knight Sabres was alive, and ran to her former guinea pi...oh, we're sorry... _fellow vigilante_ to give her a great big welcome back hug.

            "Touch me and die," Priss deadpanned her ultra-polite hello. Sylia instantly dropped her arms to the side, and inquired as to how the bloody hell Priss got home...and also if Galatea in fact was dead and she could get back to her normal, everyday life peddling slutty clothing. The only response she received, however, was, "Do I get paid for saving humanity?"

            "WHAT??? MY BLOODY ASSETS ARE NOW ANCIENT HISTORY!!!!! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU EXPECT ME TO PAY YOU WITH?!?!?!?!?!?!?"

            "I SAVED THE WORLD, DAMMIT - THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS THANK ME WITH A GENEROUS MONETARY REWARD!!!!! Plus, I can sue you for emotional damages."

            Sylia put her head in her hands and muttered, "Do you take traveler's checks?" 

            "They pay the bills," Exasperated with Priss's response, Sylia ripped her checkbook from hammerspace and jotted out a check to the biker, all the while mumbling about the cost of labor these days and megalomaniacs saving all of mankind and expecting to be paid. When the check was safely in Priss's jacket pocket, she came clean - "She's dead and one of the _Survivor_ guys watched too much anime as a kid so he translated for me and the producers got me a plane home and a free 100% cotton CBS T-shirt." 

            "What about Linna and Nene?? You guys weren't together at the end???" Sylia inquired. Priss just shrugged, and continued on with an explanation of the final confrontation with Galatea. Because we're assuming you, as a reader, already know of the events that be seeing as you're reading a _CONTINUATION_ fic, we have chosen not to include the details. Instead we will tell you of Mackey finally coming to terms with his newfound humanity and running naked down the street in celebration. 

***

            Below the wreckage of the Silky Doll, the city was slowly but surely being rebuilt from the rubble. Without a word, Priss and Sylia stood watching the cleanup crews and refugees ambling aimlessly down the twisted streets of the once awe-inspiring city. 

            Priss broke the silence for once, "So when did they start?" 

            "Well, right after that glowing reverse rain thing you instigated. They took is as a sign."

            "Mm." And with that the silence resumed, until it was once again broken, but this time 'twas Sylia who doth shattered it. 

            "Priss...you know someone's been waiting for you." 

            "...Never thought I'd say this...but I was hoping he would..." with that, Priss turned and headed back towards her red motorcycle, head loaded with thoughts. 

            "What the...Priss, where are you going at this hour??" 

            Stopping in her tracks, she replied without so much as a glance behind her, "I think we both know the answer to that question." 


	3. Chapter the Second - Indigestion...or LU...

Author's notes: We acknowledge our reviews regarding Leon-chan's ever questionable hair color. While we personally think it does in fact change color at random points, we think its base color is purple, which is why we refer to it as such. Purple hair is sexy. Anyway, if you think that it's bluish-black, we won't argue - because we agree that it IS bluish-black sometimes. It's also purple, red, black, lavender, brown, cyan, and navy blue, too. Sailor Ghost's mom thinks it's mauve, but she also thinks the A:/ drive is for Zip disks. ACTUALLY...it's MOOD RING because it changes color (And so everyone is happy! We hate controversy!)!!! Hmmmm AIC is conspiring against us...

Also, we wanted to say that we're going with the subtitled version in this fic. Nothing against the folks at ADV - we love the dub. In fact, we worship the ground Jason Douglas walks on (ever since we watched 3 straight hours of _Sorcerer Hunters_...Why must Marron be such a hottie?) But the ADR scripting botched the most romantic scene in episode 24, so we're using the unbotched subtitled version. But we do include "Leon-poo" because we think it's the funniest thing since Squeeze Cheese. By the way, Chiba is a suburb of Tokyo. And now you know...the rest of the story! 

Chapter the Second: Indigestion...or _Luuuuv_?? 

__

THEY SAY LEON'S ONE BAD MOTHA...

SHUT YO' MOUF!

HEY...I'M ONLY TALKIN' 'BOUT LEON!

WE CAN DIG IT!

"STHWEET MOTHER OF CHEESTHEWAD!!!" The former cop slurred as he slammed his foot forcefully onto the pad, nearly frying the internal components. "I sthwear that one day...I'll get past level *mumble mumble* one!" This is probably a good time to explain some of Leon's more peculiar habits that have previously never been addressed. When flustered, he floods his system with coffee. When distressed, he shoots sentient robots, with minimal accuracy. When depressed out of his freaking mind, he plays _Dance Dance Revolution_...with a custom techno CD and a bottle of 95% by volume vodka in hand. This was one such time.

A knock on the door stopped him from performing murder one on his PlayStation with a spatula as his weapon of choice. With a frustrated sigh, he attempted to stumble to the door, throw it open, see Priss, tell her exactly what he thought of the cost of those blasted Girl Scout Cookies, and slam the door in her face. It took three seconds for him to realize that he slammed the door in the face of the woman who had occupied a year's worth of impure thoughts. 

"ACK! You didn't die!!!" an entire 30 minute motorcycle ride to Chiba hadn't prepared Priss for that comment. It also didn't prepare her for the virtually bone-shattering glomp she received either. "HA HA! I knew you'd...uuuugh..." (Suffice to say, she wasn't prepared for a 250 lb., PURPLE-HAIRED ex-detective to pass out on top of her while plastered beyond rational thought, either.) 

***

Everything was fuzzy. The only sensations Leon felt were an intense throbbing in his forehead and a soft humming radiating from above his prostrate head. _Good God I died and they put my head in a C-Clamp..._he thought. _Wait a minute if this were the afterlife then why am I on my couch? Somehow I thought I'd get my own cloud or castle or something. I hope I didn't leave the iron on back home._

"Oh. You're awake. I'm amazed your liver didn't explode." 

With his eyes slowly coming to grasp with their new-found sobriety, Leon suddenly realized that he was very much alive, albeit with the worst hangover in modern history and his head in Priss's lap, the rest of his body sprawled out over the...well...rest of the couch. (and for all you perverts out there...GET YOUR MIND OUTTA THE GUTTER, PERVERT!) 

"What the bloody...Priss???? Um not to sound rude or anything but did we...umm...??"

"NO!"

Leon breathed a sigh. "I don't know whether to be relieved...or disappointed," he added suggestively, eyebrows raised. Priss gritted her teeth, narrowed her eyes, and resisted pounding her fist into his fangirl-attracting, drool-inducing, swoon-worthy chest. Instead she merely drove her elbow into his no-no spot, assuring future generations that they would not inherit his oddly-hued hair. 

While he was incapacitated, Priss took the opportunity to speak to him, choosing not to address the fact that his apartment was wallpapered in Sekiria posters, "Flattered as I am that you missed me in an almost...obsessive...manner, I must say that you need a better way to channel your depression." 

"Why are you still here? I mean, I figured after I passed out drunk you'd take off..." Leon squeaked in a tone not unlike that used to call dogs.

"I can only plead temporary insanity on that one," she answered quietly, lightly running her hand through his PURPLE HAIR. "I guess because if the tables were turned you'd do the same."

"I don't care so long as you're....OWWWWW!!!" his hand flew up to massage his aching temples. "Ugh....coffee..."

"Here let me get it," Priss stood up, forgetting her sick-as-a-dog companion was laying his head oh-so-pathetically in her lap. He fell off the couch in a rather awkward position, which included, but was not limited to, his head slamming into the coffee table, causing a rather unsightly black eye. "Oooo bad news. There's only a few ounces of Folgers left in here." Priss called from the kitchen. Leon must've been REALLY depressed considering almost every available cabinet space in his kitchen was teeming with cans upon cans of java. That may explain why he's so neurotic. But it also proves that coffee DOESN'T stunt your growth, so we don't know what to think now.

"Sonuva..._Nothing_??" he called back. Priss walked back into the den shaking her head. "Dammit I'm in pain here! Will you kiss it and make it better?"

Priss opened her mouth to protest, but instead decided that the poor man had suffered enough with having such a terrible hangover, so she whipped a twenty out of her pocket. "I have a better idea." 

***

"Why am I not surprised that Starbucks is still open after all the crap that's been happening?" Priss mused into her mocha latté. 

"One would tend to think that not much surprises the woman who saved humanity from absolute decimation," Leon commented. It doesn't take a genius to realize that she told him the entire story already. "You're amazing, you know that?" 

A light blush spreading across her cheeks, Priss looked into the lovely brown recesses of her coffee and shook her head. "I'm merely a fighter attempting to make sense of everything. Instead I'm just right back where I started." 

"What are you going to do now that it's all over?" Even though he had been more or less inactive for the past three days, Leon could feel the staccato palpitations of his heart pounding a drum solo in his head. A nauseous feeling swept over him. Somehow he dreaded asking her this, but it had been burned into his conscience for the past month and he didn't want to wait any longer for an answer.

Priss heaved a contemplative sigh. "Who knows? It's not like Tokyo has much to offer for the time being. I figured if I ran off for a while everything would start to sort itself out. Sylia emptied her bank account onto me for all I did, so it won't be as rough as before if I just took off." 

"What would you be giving up if you stayed?"

"The same things I would be giving up if I went."

"And that would be?" 

"Nothing at all," she answered, biting on her lower lip to prevent the tears from spilling. Had she been more observant, she would've noticed Leon doing the male equivalent of the same thing. An awkward silence seemed to almost flood the city. After all, at one a.m not much really happens. Priss felt an awful retching in the pit of her stomach. Those damn chili dogs - Sylia _KNEW _that cheese made her puke like all hell, but noooooooo she just _HAD _to eat something before she left because _GEEZ _she must be _STARVING_. But this kind of retching was different from the usual lactose-induced reaction...it felt kinda nifty, actually, if you're into pain. It was the same retching that kept her going while nekkid in the desert, the same retching that gave her the strength to swallow her pride and go beat the motor oil out of Galatea. _Dear God..._she thought. _It's not the chili dogs that are making me feel like this! How could I have been so blind? No it's...it's....THIS DAMN $7 CUP OF COFFEE!!! _

Leon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. To the untrained eye, one would think that he had a particularly nasty case of hemorrhoids, but in reality he was just shifting uncomfortably because he was trying to think of the right thing to say, which went something along the lines of: "Well...if you insist on leaving, then at least hear me out before you make any rash decisions." 

"I'm listening."

"Remember the night before you left for space? How I told you I wanted to be with you until the end?"

"Yeah..."

"I meant it."

Priss's eyes began to sting. The incessant retching wasn't the coffee or the chili dogs. The song always said love hurts, and she had to find out the hard way. "You meant it?" she whispered to no one but herself. 

"I...well...um...there's no way I can put this but...well...um..." He took a long gulp of coffee, beads of nervous sweat dotting his forehead. "Priss...I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That's why you can't leave me again. Those three days you were gone were Hell on Earth, and DAMNED if you leave for no reason other then just to leave. God only knows what I'd do if I lost you again..." Mustering up the last of his courage, he slid his hand over hers. "My only regret is that I never had the strength to tell you that I was in love with you. Maybe those three days wouldn't have been so nightmarish if I had come clean before - that way it wouldn't have been sitting on my mind when I was worried as hell about whether or not you would ever be alive to hear me confess...Damn it I sound like some kind of rambling idiot now, don't I??" 

"Actually that was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard..." Maybe it was getting caught up in the moment, maybe it was her artist's soul, or maybe it was just that time of the month, but for the first time in three years, Priss actually let the tears flow. But this time, they were a product of happiness, the tell-all end-all of her loneliness. A year ago, she would have recoiled at the thought of even so much as _complimenting _a person. Now she was sitting there bawling with joy and spilling her guts to someone whom _she_ wanted to spend the rest of her life with - and an _AD POLICE OFFICER _of all things. "And my only regret *sniff...,*" she sobbed, "Is that I treated you like crap."

Leon grinned and held his hand up, "No apology needed. I deserved it for acting like some kind of hormonal bastard." He put his arms around her hunched shoulders and drew her into a pretty damn romantic embrace, ignoring the gallons upon gallons of saltwater pouring onto his t-shirt. 

"Leon..."

"Hm?"

"I love you, you hormonal bastard!!" 

"I love you, too..." Lifting one arm away from her back, he dug into the pocket of his leather jacket. "Hey, Priss, while we're on the subject, do you mind if I ask you something?"


	4. Chapter the Third - Chicken Fried Knight...

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Chapter the Third: Chicken Fried Knight Sabers

"YOU PUT THE LIME IN THE COCONUT AND DRINK IT ALL DOWN!!! YEAH YEAH YEAH, NENE PUTS THE LIME IN THE COCONUT AND DRINKS IT ALL DOWN! CHA CHA CHA!!! Aw, come on, Linna, lighten up a bit!!!" Nene sang as she grinned at her companion, holding a coconut out as a peace offering. "I'm sure any day now Sylia will be flying over us in that helicopter of hers and whisk us back to civilization!!"

Linna clenched her teeth together. "Nene, you know that you've been saying that every day for the past five years. Not to burst your bubble...but I'm pretty sure we're stuck here for life..." She rested her chin in her hands. "Things would be a lot more bearable if there weren't any reruns on TV." Yes, folks, you heard right - TV. Between Nene's top-notch computer skills and Linna's sickeningly sweet wide-eyed optimism, the pair was able to make a very comfortable living for themselves, thus leaving no _Gilligan's Island _cliché untouched. They had their coconut radio, coconut television, coconut video game system complete with coconut cartridges, clothes spun from natural coconut fibers (able to handle full spin cycle in their coconut washing machine), and coconut feminine hygiene products. Of course, because this is a parody fic, they had absolutely no idea how to make a ride home out of coconuts. Or limes for that matter. Nene had once attempted to make a boat out of a hollowed-out rock but that proved to be one of her less successful - not to mention less intelligent - ideas. 

"My tummy is so empty! What's for dinner, Linna-chan??"

"Ummm...coconut shrimp...deep fried coconut...braised coconut..."

"Is that it?!" Nene whined, tummy growling as if it thought and made decisions for itself. "I'm getting kinda sick of coconut every night to be honest!"

"If you complain, then you aren't getting any coconut cream pie for desert!" Linna mock-scolded her best friend, who just happened to be the only company on the godforsaken island for the past five years. "Besides, there's starving children in Africa who would kill for these coconuts! What kind of person would you be if you turned your nose up at this food? A selfish one that's what!" 

Nene fell to the sand superdeformed and answered in a weak affirmative. Settling down, the two began their usual dinner conversation: 

"SAILOR MOON COULD _SO _KICK WEDDING PEACH'S TOOKAS!!!!"

"Hrumph! Nene, I'm afraid that I disagree with you wholeheartedly." And so they debated and debated until it was time for _CHiPs 2045 _to come on, neither realizing that Sailor Saturn could bring both Sailor Moon and Wedding Peach to their knees. They were also painfully unaware of a plot device lurking behind the palm trees. 

***

"Linna!! Linna-chan wake up!!!" Nene fretfully shook the sleeping bag (which had appeared from hammerspace along with Sylia's wallet and Priss's wrench) next to her. "Ho, dammit, Linna why do you have to be such a heavy sleeper, anyways??" Frustrated with being forced to fall back on Plan Z, Nene inhaled two lungfuls of air and screeched at the top of her lungs, "LINNA-CHAN'S A HILLBILLY!!!!!!"

It couldn't have been more perfect even if it had been scripted. Almost as if on cue, Linna shot up from her advanced REM state and proceeded to bite Nene's head off - figuratively of course but if she were any angrier, we wouldn't put it past her to carry out the task in the literal sense of the phrase. "NOW YOU LISTEN HERE, BUDDY, JUST BECAUSE I WAS BORN IN THE COUNTRY DOESN'T MEAN THAT...Nene??" 

Tears were flooded in Nene's bulging eyes. "LINNAAAAAAAA I WAS JUST SO SCARED AND YOU WERE ASLEEP AND I NEEDED SOMEBUDDY TO TALK TO AND...AND..." 

"Shhhhh...don't get hysterical on me here! Now what's the matter?? Why did you have to wake me up??" 

"I HEARD A REALLY WEIRD NOISE!!! Linna, I'm scared!" Nene huddled next to her newly-appointed surrogate mother. "You didn't hear it??"

"No, I was_ asleep _remember? What did it sound like?" 

Nene sprang to her feet in order to illustrate what exactly it was she had heard through an interpretive dance medium. "It was kinda like an '_OOGA OOGA OOGA_!!!' noise. And drums, too. Lots and lots of drums." 

"That's bizarre...I could've sworn that we were alone here..." Linna thought out loud. "In any case....Nene?? What's wrong now???" The blonde Knight Saber's face had gone an ashen gray color and her mouth hung open, making her look more like an anthropomorphic fish than a really, really frightened human being. 

Raising a terror-stricken finger, Nene pointed to a shadowy figure looming behind Linna's unsuspecting back. Though her teeth were chattering, she managed to stutter, "C...C....CANNIBALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

***

"Good morning, gentlemen, how may I help you?? ^_^" Sylia greeted her guests pleasantly. "Oh, Mr. McNichol I didn't know it was you. ^_^ How are you? What brings you to the Silky Doll of all places?" 

Flushing furiously in an attempt to prevent himself from picturing Priss wearing the vast array of women's undergarments surrounding him, Leon-chan replied, "Well, we were patrolling the area...and Daley here has been guzzling down coffee for the past 3 1/2 hours so...uhhh..."

"SYLIA, I GOTTA GOOOOO!!!!!!!! CAN I USE YOUR BATHROOM????" Daley chewed at his bottom lip and jumped from one foot to another in order to prevent another flood in the Silky Doll. 

"I hope it's not too inconvenient, but all I have is a ladies' room...considering that...nearly all customers are female. Or at least wannabe females. But you're more than welcome to use it if you're desperate. ^_^" 

"OH I'M DESPERATE ALL RIGHT!!!!!! THANK YOU, SYLIA!!!" With that, Daley dashed off, leaving Leon with his nose dripping blood and Sylia grinning like a deranged psychopathic hyena. 

Continuing to grin the grin that gave Leon the willies something awful, Sylia turned to him and asked in a sing-song voice, "Is there anything I can do for while your partner is indisposed, Mr. McNichol? ^_^" 

"...Um...no..."

Still grinning and sending frightened chills up the cop's fangirl-attracting, drool-inducing, swoon-worthy back, Sylia took a hangar off of a rack and held a freakishly low-cut negligee up to Leon's fangirl-attrac...oh you know the drill. She held it up to his really sexy bod and commented, "Oh, yes this certainly goes well with your skin tone ^_^! Do you want to try it on? ^__^"

Eyes bulging half out of his skull, Leon inched his way closer and closer to the door to flee from the maniacal syphilitic lunatic. Sylia had always freaked him out to no end, what with her long silverish-blueish locks and not-all-there schitzoid mannerisms and the vacant expressions and the hey hey hey. "You know what? I'm just gonna go wait for Daley in the car. 'Bye, now." With that, he took off out the door and hopped into the squad car as fast as his legs could carry his largely top-heavy weight. 

***

"Oh, you don't wanna eat me!! SQUEE!!! LINNA HELP ME HERE!!!" Nene protested. After being dragged off by the accused cannibals, the Knight Sabers had been tied to a palm tree in the usual cliché fashion. Despite their brave struggle to escape their captors, they had been easily overtaken by some of the more fleet-footed tribesmen. This trauma was too much for poor Nene, who had spent the last half-hour crying and complaining as if the 'cannibals' actually spoke a word of any language she had picked up from her years of hacking. After her scene, they just thought she was possessed by the local monkey demons who lived in a nearby enchanted cave and played enchanted glockenspiels every third full moon of the year. 

Linna sighed, "Well, try to communicate in their OWN language for once. Maybe see if you can pick up some words that could prove to be of use?" 

"It couldn't hurt I guess. HEY BUDDY!!!" The guard who had been standing at attention in front of the helpless prisoners turned and faced his loudmouthed blonde captive. "Ummm...OOGA WOOGA LOOLOOMANGA!!! ECKY ECKY ECKY WOOPKING ZAPKANG!!!!!"

With a start, the guard lept backwards and raised an eyebrow at her bizarre demand. "Oooka looka walla??"

Grinning at her uncanny ability to crack the language barrier, Nene responded with a strong, proud, "NI!!!" 

"Mooga Oooga! La la lecky lecky wooooooot!" He replied, eyebrows still raised in confusion.

**__**

For those of you not fluent in stereotypical South Pacific Island-speak, Sailor Ghost & PMJ provide this handy translation:

"Hey you muddy fish bone - please feast upon my body!"

"Ummm....why? Have you a death wish?" 

"I taste like chicken!"

"You crazy woman! We have no intention of eating the promised goddesses that will deliver us from all ills!"

**__**

/translation

Nene then proceeded to kick and scream erratically, "Linna they're gonna eat us!! WAAAAAAAHHHHHH AND I HAVEN'T WON THE NOBEL PRIZE OR EVEN KISSED MACKEY YEEEEEEET!!!!!!!!" She burst into a deluge of tears, frightening the unsuspecting guard, who mistook her tantrum as an omnipotent demand, and fled to the chief to request the immediate and unrepentant devouring of the flesh and vital organs of their prisoners per their demands. Not surprisingly, the chief was disgusted at this proposition, but could not deny the goddess's request lest he piss off the other gods and incur their omnipotent wrath. Shrugging, he led his men over to the palm tree under which Linna and Nene were bound, and retied them so that they hung upside-down from a branch, while still tied together. The womenfolk, still embracing traditional feminine roles, placed a large black cauldron underneath their wriggling bodies and filled it near full of brackish seawater.

A piercing screech rang from both of the captive women. Its shrill quality managed to put a temporary damper on the usually benevolent clan, but the relief was not to last...

***

"Christ, Daley, it took you long enough." Leon muttered as his partner slid into the passenger's seat. 

"Well I was merely living up to your end of the deal. Plus my Sharpie ran out of ink." Daley answered in his usual smug, matter-of-fact manner. "There has got to be a better way to pick up really effeminate guy...err...women in this town..."

"I have bad news for ya...there's not. So live with it, bucko. Besides you're learning from the master!" Leon grinned and indicated with his thumb that he was of course referring to himself. We hate to tell him this, but Daley could've figured it out without gestures seeing as he's smart and all. But seeing as Leon's Observational IQ is that of mayonnaise (with no offense to mayonnaise - we find it to be a perfectly delightful condiment), we won't rain on his delusional parade.

Daley snorted back amused laughter at his partner's self-commentary. The master? Oh, please! HE could pick up more women - if he even liked them - and he wore PINK on a daily basis, for Kami-sama's sake! "Sheesh you think one lousy piece of jewelry that cost you a year's rent makes you some kinda ladies' man? Heh." he chortled sarcastically, causing Leon to grit his teeth in frustration at being outsmarted yet again.

"Hey Daley..."

"Hmn?"

"If you don't shut the hell up you're riding on the roof rack again." 

***

Closer and closer to the boiling water they came, sweat beginning to bead up on their temples from the ever-pressing heat. Nene, diplomatic skills at the ready, made one last desperate attempt to persuade the 'cannibals' that she tasted something like monkey poop, and once again it didn't work - after all, if she tasted like dessert then by all means cook her!!

"Nene...it looks like this is it...who'd have thought the last remaining Knight Sabers would go in such a crude way?" Linna murmured placidly, no remorseful tones present in her speech. 

"DIE NOTHING I DON'T WANNA END UP AS CHICKEN-FRIED NENE SERVED WITH A SIDE DISH OF LINNA!!! THIS AIN'T NO FREAKING _IRON CHEF _AND I AIN'T NO SECRET INGREDIENT!!!!!" She struggled, causing the two women to sway back and forth above impending mutual doom. 

"I'm not afraid. We've gone through worse situations and came out on top. If we die, then we die. It's all part of life - if I learned only one thing from being a Knight Saber it's that death is never in vain if you go down strong. So calm down, Nene, and accept whatever comes." 

But Nene didn't have to calm down. Sure there was a tribe of island people trying to get a taste of her tender pale flesh and dancing around while decked out in toucan feathers and beating drums, but they also weren't expecting them to be the subjects of an anthropological study, either. A rustling in the bushes revealed two bespectacled men bearing a strange resemblance to Teddy Roosevelt and jotting observations into a black notebook. Linna and Nene exchanged glances at the emergence of the British intellectuals. Forgetting the previous exposition regarding peaceful acceptance of death, the pair called their plight to the strangers, who immediately ceased the ceremony with a few carefully-chosen "UG"s and untied the damsels in distress. 

"We're so sorry!" One of the TR clones apologized wholeheartedly. "Dr. Livingston and I overheard your screams and thought that it would be a most fascinating study into this tribe's linguistic traditions concerning foreigners."

The other man chuckled, "I found it quite humorous when you asked that young man to eat you." 

Nene and Linna raised their eyebrows in perfect unison. In stammering English, Nene answered, "I was asking him if he would let us go..."

Dr. Livingson shook his head, an amused smile plastered on his face. "Sorry, but we've spent the past five years studying the behavior an speech patterns of this particular tribe, and you decidedly requested that they eat you, my dear. Now what Dr. Watson and I would like to know is how two perfect specimens of modern civilization ended up on a tropical island."

"Well you see, sir, we're the KNIGHT SABERS!!!" Nene struck a pose highly reminiscent of a magical girl in order to inform her rescuers what a wonderful person they had saved. Since Linna spoke minimal English, Nene had the honors of playing translator, a job that she relished almost as much as the authors of this story relish hot dogs. The puzzled looks on the scientist's faces led to a looooooong explaination of what the hell a Knight Saber was and why they were so vital to the struggle of humanity to remain the dominant species on Earth, a subject which naturally enthralled the aged anthropologists. Because of Nene's fascinating monologue, wrought with dramatic reenactments of battles and vibrant grasp of vocabulary, the British Museum sent them home to Tokyo with a fairly comfortable sum of money for contributing to...well...a lot of smart scientific stuff. 

And thus the Knight Sabers were reunited in their beloved restored Tokyo...well in the next chapter they were. Sailor Ghost's sidekick makes her first appearance so you don't want to miss that!


	5. Chapter the Fourth - High-Level Second G...

****

Chapter the Fourth: High-Level Second Generation

"HAAAAAAA!!!!" Nene sighed dreamily as she flung herself backwards onto her soft, springy, non-sandy mattress. "It feels GREAT to be home again!!! Sorry to hear about your apartment being converted into a yaoi strip club, Linna-chan. You're welcome to stay here if you want!" She added as she was sitting up, knowing that the former office lady was still recoiling from their brief and highly embarrassing encounter with her landlord. 

Linna mustered up a half-traumatized, half-grateful smile. True, she got all of her stuff back plus even more monetary compensation which served the purpose of stopping a potential court hearing on emotional damages, but something just seemed so...ikky...about having a buncha butt naked men with names like _MANGO_ and _THE WONGINATOR _dancing provocative dances where she had once taken showers. "Thanks, Nene, you're a pal. Hopefully it'll only be a night or so before I can find a new place." She shoveled a handful of Fritos in her mouth, starved for something that wasn't seafood or the dreaded coconut. "You know we really should try to get in touch with Sylia or something...I mean I _think_ she'd _like _to know that we're alive."

"Yeah, but can we get some sleep first?? I'm tiiiiiiiiiiiiiired!!!" Nene whined, with good reason. If you were stuck on a desert island for five years with no PURPLE-haired, obsessive-compulsive psychopathic stalker policey man to harass then you'd be on the whiny side, too. We certainly would, even though we personally don't know any PURPLE-haired psychopaths, but they're probably fun to harass. "We can call her in the morning, right? After all, what's one more night?" she added, yawning. 

"I guess you're right," Linna nodded. "Say, what do you suppose ever happened to Priss??"

"She died?"

"Priss isn't the kind of girl to just up and die..."

Nene shrugged and added, "Yeah, but wouldn't it have been wrought with dramatic irony if she saved the world she always appeared to hate, but DIE as soon as she realizes that life and people and stuff aren't so bad after all? I mean she had the PERFECT recipe for a tragic hero!!!"

"Dear God. You're really morbid when you're tired..." the more normal Knight Saber raised an eyebrow as the show's producers kicked their own asses for not thinking of that sooner and leaving legions of fans to write speculations on what transpired after the series ended. It's their own fault for not providing any continuity : ) 

***

Sylia sat complacently at her bar, a warm cup of Earl Grey in one hand and a slightly torched copy of _Victoria's Secret _in another. "Overpriced pieces of crap..." she muttered to herself. "Don't see what makes _their _merchandise so special *mutter mutter* Just because they have celebrity endorsements doesn't mean they beat out the independent competition..." 

"Lady Sylia-sama," Meisio called in a manner that made both the sub and dub fans happy and not excluded in any way, shape, or form, but nonetheless made him sound silly as all hell. "Miss Nene-san is on the phone."

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?????????" Sylia shot up, her priceless China teacup clattering to the floor in dangerously sharp and priceless splinters. "Oh my God!!!" Tongue-tied, she inadvertently yanked the phone from her utterly confused butler and engaged in the usual where-on-earth-have-you-been-for-the-past-five-years small talk. Being the sophisticated upper-crust socialite she was, Sylia generously invited her combat slav...err..._friends_ over for an extended catch-up-on-things session.

**__**

Meanwhile...on the other side of town...

"And then there was this blinding flash of light and I felt as if my brain was being invaded by a million glowing jellyfish speaking in L33+..."

Across the hot tub, a couple of fangirls gasped, still others gaping so wide their fillings were showing. "What did you do??" one stammered.

Mackey shifted his arms from the two fangirls next to him and gestured wildly to illustrate the AGONY and the TERROR that Galatea spread throughout both him and Tokyo. "Well it was almost as if I were possessed. I started typing codes like a madman until one of the Knight Sabers - probably Priss but remember I was possessed so it could've been the Pillsbury Doughboy for all I know - smashed my hand off with a monkey wrench. It was scary, but I managed to..." But instead of finishing his exposé, he paused and stared off into the abyss as if he had short-circuited.

Fangirl number two giggled, "Mackey-chan sure is funny! Heeee heeee just look at him!! So what happened after that??"

"Did they finally get her?!" inquired fangirl number three.

"Did you finally regain your memory??" badgered fangirl number four. 

Poking Mackey's stiff posture, fangirl number five, who was arguably quite intelligent for a sickeningly rabid and obsessive fangirl, expressed concern that perhaps Mackey was not acting _rigor mortis_-y for dramatic effect. Fangirls six through ten gasped.

"Oh no do you think it's Galatea??!!" fangirl number eleven squealed. 

"No, you stupid! It must be that Mason guy! Ooo he's so bad! I wish the Knight Sabers had kicked his ass!" growled fangirl number twelve, clenching her fist.

"Mackey...senses...tingling..." They all stared bug-eyed at the cute 'n' cuddly boomer, whose glassy eyes finally regained their consciousness. A wide grin spreading across his mouth, he hollered at the top of his lungs. "NENE'S HOME!!!!!" With that, he dashed off, startling the whole hot tub, who immediately broke out into petty fangirl tears of jealousy.

"Well...there's always Daley..." murmured fangirl number thirteen. "We'd get some juicy yaoi stories from him..."

***

"Linna! Nene! I'm so pleased to see you both again ^_^ Please make yourselves comfortable!" Sylia scurried about her mansion/building hybrid to make them feel so. It was apparently working, because they did and everyone was happy, end of story...

...until Linna decided to open her mouth: "Sylia..." she began, stuttering a bit in embarrassment. "How come you never...oh it's too embarrassing never mind..." 

"What, Linna? You know you can ask me anything you want! ^_^ I don't mind!!" 

Eyes shifting, Linna stammered, "Sylia...if you had the means, why didn't you come rescue us sooner??? I mean we _were _stuck on an island for five whole years and if you had come looking for us chances are we would not have developed an irrational fear of coconuts!!! Did we mean that little to you if you just left us for dead???"

Nene gasped in revelation. "That's right!! You should have taken better care of your teammates, Sylia!! Shame on you!!" The two castaways glared at the sophisticated scary lady, awaiting an explanation for her travesty. Instead they were treated with a childishly creepy giggle. 

"Tee hee hee Linna and Nene! You silly girls! I had every intention of coming to rescue you ^_^" She put her hand delicately in front of her mouth and tittered. The other two Knight Sabers wore identical confused expressions, right down to the last hair on their raised eyebrows. Sylia noticed their discomfort, and expounded on her mysterious statement. "Hohoho girls! It was on my agenda this entire time!"

"YOUR AGENDA?!" the other two spouted in unison, exchanging startled glances. 

Sylia nodded calmly as she removed her Palm XXVII from hammerspace. "See??" she motioned for her companions to join her in gazing at its glowing funness. Sure enough, under the heading 'Seduce Nigel,' (which had been checked), was a terse reminder to rescue the missing Knight Sabers. "You see, girls? I was just about to come and get you! Mackey was fueling up the chopper just this morning and I was going to depart tomorrow ^_^ I would have left sooner but a few errrm...more important things came up at the last minute."

Lips pressed together in semi-annoyance, Linna curtly queried, "Sylia...what could be more important than the well-being of your teammates? I mean, Priss could be dead because of you!"

Sylia spun around wildly, and her hair probably would have stood on end if such a thing were gravitationally possible. "I SAID I WAS GOING TO COME AND RESCUE YOU, YOU UNGRATEFUL BITCH WHAT ELSE DO YOU EXPECT FROM ME A MILLION FREAKING GOLD INGOTS?????" Blinking a few times, she brought her hand back up to her mouth and tittered once more while Linna and Nene sat in their seats, eyes glued open in shock and blood-curdling fright. "Hohoho sorry, girls. It must be the syphilis acting up again." 

"SYPHILIS?!?!?!?!?!?!" Somewhere down the street, a bum cocked his head to the decibel-enhanced exclamation of Linna and Nene. The fact that his name was Jojo and he wasn't really a bum, just an eccentric old hack who liked to dress up like a bum is totally irrelevant and random. But this story isn't about Jojo, it's about the origins of Sylia's nasty, festering disease contracted from intertwined lives wrought with ill morals. So set your tushe down and we'll trace the strain for you, starting from the end result and working backwards:

1. Sylia

2. Nigel

3. A buncha 'hos (they were broken up then)

4. Daley (back when he was still sowing his heterosexual oats)

5. Mr. Schnookums, a sheep who bit Daley as a child while attending a petting zoo

Now that we've successfully made you lose your appetite and probably bounced this rating to an R, we hereby re-join our story, already in progress:

"AND THEN WE CRASHED ON A TROPICAL ISLAND AND LINNA AND I ATE SHRIMP AND COCONUTS AND WE HAD A TV AND...OH MACKEY I MISSED YOU SOOOOOOOO MUCH!!!!!!" Nene grabbed the cute little boomer boy and snuggled the beejeebus out of a blushing Mackey, fresh home from his encounter with unconditional positive regard via fangirls. As the two engaged in a typical catch-up session, which you already know the details of so we shan't repeat ourselves lest we lose fans (you gorgeous people! we love you all!), Sylia and Linna turned to a topic which was a little more interesting than non-Priss x Leon lovey talk. However, Linna found Sylia's unrelenting eye twitch a bit of a distraction. 

"Anou...Sylia, do you have any idea whatever happened to Priss? I mean, it has been five years. Do you....do you think she's even alive right n...OOOOOOF!!!!!" Linna's teacup flew clear into Sylia's freshly ironed and pressed slut dress, splattering the lukewarm liquid all over the store. "W...WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ON MY BACK?!?!?!?!?! GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!!!!" she demanded, flailing her arms as if such a motion actually accomplished anything. 

Hurrying to her feet while Sylia regained composure (which was a preventative measure lest she reveal her true identity as the Incredible Hulk), Nene pried the death grip of a small, scruffy, caffeine-enhanced child off a wailing Linna's back. 

"Hmmm now who are you?" Nene inquired of the wriggling feral child, curiousity dancing on her youthful countenance. "Are you a new stock girl or a....OH MY GOD!!!!" It was the first time she had gotten a good look at the girl's face. It looked all too familiar. "S...Syliaaaa......."

Face fading from a bright green, Sylia acknowledged her address.

"Sylia....I always knew you were a twisted human being...but why...why did you make a chibified clone of Priss?? And why...is her hair..._PURPLE_?!" Linna squeaked in the background, catching various startling pieces of the interrogation. No wonder the little freak had such a psychotic temper...it was a Mini-Priss that Sylia had created in her lab to make up for the death of her most volatile fighter. Yup! That _must _be it! They were sure of it.

All Sylia could do was raise an eyebrow, taken aback by the preposterous theories of the Dynamic Duo. Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to explain before being interrupted by a rich, smooth, sexay male voice:

"DAMMIT! She chewed through the harness! Rei, this is the third time this week!" Leon emerged from...somewhere. Just say the door, we're too preoccupied by thinking about his testosterone-gifted bod to give a crapola. What we do know is that he was carrying a hot pink child harness with chew marks apparent on several straps. "Geez, girl, can't you go anywhere without causing some kind of collateral damage? Oh, hi, Linna and Nene." 

Nene twitched. "Señorita Leon-peon-poo-chan...I always knew you were a twisted human being who obsessively stalked my bestest pal, but WHY in God's name did you CLONE her?! Can you not get over her death or something?? And WHY is her hair _PURPLE_?!"

As he picked up the writhing child in question, Leon cocked his eyebrow, much as a lot of confused people do. "Nene, you've been out in the sun too long...and I think I had a liiiiiittle help making this so-called 'clone,' thank you very much." 

Hands on hips, Nene retorted, "Oh yeah, Mr. Smartass, if this isn't a Priss clone to compensate for her tragic death, then where is the bona fide Priss, hmmmmm?? Tell me that!" Linna nodded in agreement as the gifted hacker took center stage. 

"She's out parking the minivan," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"M...MINIVAN???!!!" the other Knight Sabers, including Sylia, exclaimed in surprise for the...bazillionth...time. 'Priss' and 'minivan' were two words they'd _never _think to hear together in one breath, let alone syntactically situated. Because repetition is supposedly humorous, Nene, Linna, Sylia, and Mackey gaped wide-eyed at the follicularly-abnormal detective, who found no fallacies in what he had said and was contemplating their surprise.

As if on cue, a loud barrage of crashes, shattering glass, squealing cats, and heavily censored expletives canceled the silence. A few seconds later, Priss staggered through the door with a thoroughly pissed expression. She wordlessly tossed the keys at Leon, and muttered under her breath, "Last time I ever drive that piece of [CENSORED]. Stupid [CENSORED] bastard making me drive his [CENSORED] van." Finally noticing the arrival of her teammates, she added as an afterthought, "Hi, Linna, Nene. Glad to see you didn't die."

"PRISS!!!!" Linna and Nene screamed once more in glee, surrounding her with big, happy hugs and soaking the front of her pinstripe suit with salty tears of joy. Priss merely rolled her eyes and patted the two on the back as her little Priss way of greeting them. 

Finally pulling away from the group hug, Nene wiped the tears from her eyes and asked, "OK, Priss, if you're here, then just _what _is _that_?" She gestured towards Rei, who sat on Leon's perfectly chiseled shoulder, swinging her legs back and forth, periodically kicking him forcefully in his perfectly chiseled pecs. 

Rei waved a bit when addressed, and replied in a proud childish simper, "Don't call me that! My name is Priss, Jr.!" 

"EEEEHHHH?!?!" Linna added her two cents.

"Yah, this is my daddy!" Rei grinned and grabbed Leon's head, making his face turn the same shade of PURPLE as his hair for lack of proper oxygen intake. "And that beer slut over there is mommy. I hate her." 

Priss glared at her daughter, who promptly stuck her tongue out. "How many times do I have to tell you to quit calling me that!!!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Why? I heard Daddy call you that last night when I was supposed to be asleep!"

"Daddy calls mommy lots of things that you shouldn't repeat," she shifted her glare from her out-of-control daughter to her periodically out-of-control Leon, who grinned sheepishly as if it would prevent her from breaking out the whips later.

Rei retorted, "So I can't call you..." With that, she uttered a name so vile, so foul, so privately dirty that if it were to be related here, we wouldn't even be allowed to post this on the ever-so-tolerant Fanfiction.net. Let's just say it made the entire room, even Sylia, blush and cough. That's how bad it was.

***

"You know Priss, I just don't get it...how could _you _of all people have a daughter?!" Linna pursed her lips and slathered them with pearly pink lipstick as she awaited her answer.

The biker chick shrugged, leaned against the stall in waiting. "Well, I suppose if you insist on knowing I don't mind telling you. Me and Leon had a little too much to drink one night and it was right after we had our new hot tub installed, so..."

"EEEEEK!!! I mean, I know _HOW_. @_@ What I meant was how a crude motorcycle bitch with absolutely no social graces goes from that to suburban combat soccer mom with a husband and kid just like that??" She snapped her fingers on the last word for a clichéd emphasis. 

Once again, Priss answered with a shrug, "I'm not different. Just my environment, that's all." Without a word, she stood back up and waltzed out of the Silky Doll's bathroom, not wanting to reveal anything like mushy, gooey, love-love feelings to someone who just wouldn't get it. Besides, she was done with her business and had no reason to stick around in the potpourri-drenched scent used to mask the not-so-potpourri stench.

Linna stuck around after her companion left so suddenly, looking herself over in the mirror. "It's not fair, Linna," she mused to her reflection. "Your friends are either married or have a significant other...isn't it about time you got a man?" Sighing, she dropped her gaze into the sink. "Ah, who am I kidding? There's no on out there for poor old Linna."

But as she made her way towards the door, a line of letters perfectly scrawled in black sharpie made themselves apparent where Priss had stood. Linna hadn't noticed these before, and she tentatively tiptoed over to study them as if they were ancient texts only she knew of.

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Looking for a good time? Call El Wongo de Amore at 1-800-LUV-MCHN to make your fantasies become reality!, they read. 

****


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